


Dear John

by castielfalls



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 19:33:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12711498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielfalls/pseuds/castielfalls
Summary: This letter is for Dr. John H. Watson to have after my passing. No other person is to read this.John, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. This letter will tell you everything I never got to.Yours,Sherlock





	Dear John

Greg Lestrade quietly and slowly made his way up the familiar staircase he had grown to find comfort in. Before, he had associated this stairs with his defeat, his incompetency. He only ever treaded these steps when he had no idea what to do next and now here he was, visiting. The reason for his visit was less than favorable and Greg wished on everything that he had visited more often on a casual note. He only graced the flat with his presence when there was a case and now he was at the same door, a small box in his hands. He frowned to himself. Surely there was more to this than it looked? It couldn't have been so simple, it couldn't have ended just like that. All the adventures, all the stories that have amassed over many years just gone in a matter of seconds. Greg was loyal to this man ever since he met him at the police station all those years ago. The man's older brother, a man who holds a 'minor' position in the British government, had interrogated him, tested him, by offering him a very generous sum of money to spy on the detective. Greg passed on the offer, his moral code making him feel bad. Mycroft, the older Holmes brother, was delighted at this. Why else was Greg still alive, standing at the doorway of the famed flat, 221B?

Greg knocked and waited. He didn't know if the man was in, but he was willing to wait. When such a tragedy befell someone, he didn't expect them to answer the door so quickly. If he was in the same situation, he would probably answer the door ten minutes after the doorbell went off. After a few moments passed, Greg heard shuffling from inside the flat and he tried his best to smile as the door swung open.

He looked very tired. It was the only word Greg could find to describe the doctor. John grinned weakly as he stepped aside, "Greg, hey. Er, come in. It's good to see you." Greg nodded gratefully as he returned the sentiment, entering the flat. He immediately felt a sense of emptiness fill his chest when his eyes fell on the green chair of metallic framing. He sat on the couch, keeping his eyes low. He didn't want to look at the yellow spray-painted happy face on the wall and the bullet holes that lined the wallpaper. Greg reckoned he kept his head down for majority of his visit. He was trying to avoid anything that reminded him of the detective. The skull on the mantelpiece. The science apparatus on the kitchen table. The violin and bow leaning on one side of the couch, the music notes with scribbles all over. The abandoned cup of tea that had gone cold on the desk next to the window. Everything reminded him of Sherlock Holmes. Even the goddamn floor did.

"Why're you here? Sorry, didn't mean to sound rude. I just — You wouldn't be visiting if you didn't have anything you wanted to say," John said, taking a seat in his own chair. Greg noticed John actively training his eyes on him and he knew it was for the same purpose that the detective inspector kept his eyes glued to the red and grey carpet. Greg nodded, affirming John's guess, as he set the box down. He said quietly, "That's, er, that's some stuff from my office — some stuff of Sherlock's, actually. I probably should have thrown it out, but I didn't know if... I know it's very hard for you right now. Believe me, I... I'm going through it too. If you don't want these things, it's fine. I'll take it back and if you, in the future, ever want it, you can come get it." John shook his head, "No. I'll... I'll keep it now. Thanks for bringing these things over, Greg."

To lighten the mood, Greg lifted the lid off the box and took out items one by one as he informed John what they were. He retrieved a DVD and said, "The video message I made him record for you on your birthday, this is the uncut version. It's a bit funny, I thought you would want that." John gave him a small smile as he took the DVD from Greg and placed it next to the television, saying, "I'll watch it later, maybe." Greg gave him a supportive smile as he picked out a very familiar pink iPhone, "Your first case together, right? Well, technically this was the first one publicly involving you-know-who, but... Actually, I think it was stupid of me to leave this in. I'll take it back." John hurriedly reached out for the iPhone, "No, no. It's fine. I'll keep everything in the box." Greg stared at him, unsure, before continuing to take out the items. There was an open box of nicotine patches and Greg laughed, "When he ran out, he would steal some from me." John gave him a small smile but didn't say anything else. Greg took out a toy train engine (Greg didn't know why Sherlock had it exactly. In fact, he still didn't know), a yellow mask of a face (Greg didn't even want to know), a rather tattered notebook with a black gel pen (Greg said it was full of details regarding his cases before John came along to do the annotating for him), a small violin keychain (Greg had gotten him it as a Christmas present a few years back but Sherlock never got around to actually using it), a pair of glasses and eyeliner (Greg never knew where it came from), an artist's anatomy mannequin (Greg mentioned once that Sherlock used to have an interest in drawing), a shock blanket (John remembered it from the first case he and Sherlock solved together), a bobby pin with the paint scratched off  at the tips (Greg said he often picked locks years before meeting John), a hat that said 'genius.' (Greg had gotten it as another Christmas present and Sherlock wore it twice before he forgot about it) and finally, a very curious stack of papers held together by a fastener.

"What's that?" John asked, pointing at it. Greg glanced at it before lifting his eyes in recognition, saying, "I don't know what's in it. It's for your eyes only." John noticed a post-it that was pasted right over the title of the papers. It read:

_To whom it may concern:_

_This letter is for Dr. John H. Watson to have after my passing. No other person is to read this._  
_John, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. This letter will tell you everything I never got to._

_Yours,_  
_Sherlock_

"What is it?" Greg asked. John pressed his lips together as he breathed slowly, trying not to crack. Sherlock wrote an entire stack of letters for him. Everything he ever wanted to tell John, and it's in his hands in black and white.

"I'm sorry, Greg. Thank you for giving me all this, but I need to be alone," John said, lifting the papers slightly so that Greg got the hint that it was about them. The detective inspector nodded understandingly as he stood, placing a hand on John's shoulder, "If you ever need to, you know, talk. You have my number." John smiled gratefully, "Thank you so much, Greg. Have a safe trip back." Greg appreciated the goodbye as he bid his own, leaving the flat. John closed the door soon after, putting down the letters as he put in the DVD, watching the video come up on the television screen to reveal the familiar sofa with the smiley face sprayed on the wall behind it.

" _Was that supposed to happen – the light going down? Yeah, okay._ "

John inhaled sharply at the sound of his former flatmate's voice and he poured himself a drink, downing it in one gulp. On the television screen, Sherlock paced across the living room as he muttered, " _Oh, er, mmm. So, what do I, what do I, what d'you want me to do at the end?_ " Sherlock paused and looked at the man behind the camera who John gathered was Greg as he questioned, " _Shall I, um ...? Smile and wink. I do that sometimes. I've no idea why. People seem to like it – humanises me._ " He heard Greg's voice mumble, " _Fine. Whatever._ " Sherlock turned back around and asked, confused, " _Why am I doing this, again?_ " John could practically hear Greg roll his eyes as he answered, " _You're gonna miss the dinner._ " Sherlock stared at him as he paced around, saying, " _Of course I'm gonna miss dinner. There'll be people. How can John be having a birthday dinner? All his friends hate him._ " John smiled briefly, feeling a bit more calm upon hearing Sherlock's frankness. Sherlock explained, " _You only have to look at their faces. I wrote an essay on suppressed hatred in close proximity based entirely on his friends._ " John smiled again. It was just so Sherlock to do something like that. Sherlock looked away thoughtfully as he continued, " _On reflection, it probably wasn't a very good choice of gift. What was my excuse again?_ " Greg responded with, "You said you had a thing." Sherlock looked like he remembered his excuse as he said, "Ah, right, yes! That's right. A thing." Greg said sarcastically, " _You might wanna elaborate._ " Sherlock rejected the idea almost immediately, " _No, no, no. Only lies have detail._ "

John closed his eyes briefly, feeling pain yet comfort in hearing Sherlock's voice and seeing him walking the floors of 221B once again. Sherlock stared intensely into the camera for a few seconds as he spoke, " _Right, I just ... I need a moment to, um, figure out what I'm going to do._ " Sherlock walked towards the window and John stared down at his refilled glass, muttering, "I can tell you what you can do. You can stop being dead." He took a sip before he saw Sherlock stare right into the camera, one word causing John to almost choke on his drink.

" _Okay._ "

Sherlock walked away again, saying, " _Okay, I'm ready now._ " He finally settled into his chair, looking into the camera as he spoke, " _Hello, John. I'm sorry I'm not there at the moment. I'm very busy. However, many happy returns. Oh, and don't worry. I'm going to be with you again very soon._ "

Sherlock winked.

Sherlock winked! Surely that meant something? John stared at the television screen, seeing Sherlock smiling back at him as the video ended. He glanced at the stack of papers as he switched off the television, walking over to retrieve it. John carefully peeled the post-it off the cover page, revealing the title.

_Dear John._  
_'Alive'._


End file.
